A Single Daffodil [Harry Styles]

Rest & Recuperation.

"Eeeeeeee!"

This was the sound Ronnie couldn't stop emitting as she hugged me from behind, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck.

"Ronnie!" I laughed, pulling at her arms to lessen the grip. She was starting to choke me. "Quit that!"

"Never!" She squealed, rocking me side to side so drastically, I almost fell off the stool I was sitting on. "I've missed you far too much! Working here has been less entertaining without you around but now you're back and you're back a week early and now we get to have fun again and cut flowers together and we're gonna eat Chipotle on our lunch breaks and we're gonna drink coffee all day long! All-day long!"

I laughed at Ronnie's rambling, which was quickly followed by another round of 'Eeeee!'s.

I was technically scheduled to work at Jane's Flower Shop after the first week of August, but I was so desperate to get back to my old life, I came back early. Sitting in the back room with Ronnie at the shop made me feel like everything was almost back to normal. It just felt really good to be back in a place that wasn't tainted with change.

"Ronnie." Maggie Rivers stood in the doorway of her office, placing both hands on her hips. "Quit suffocating my Vita! Work on that bouquet you started this morning."

When Maggie walked back into her office, Ronnie dropped into the stool next to me, picking up a rose from the table in the process. "Ugh. Kill me, man. This bouquet order is just exhausting. Some hotshot sweet sixteener wants an epic bouquet that has every flower under the Goddamn sun." She raised her voice a couple of octaves, putting her left hand to her ear and pretended to be on the phone. "'Ahmagad, I want it to be like, really pretty, but diverse. Make it like, really colorful. And can you put a pink bow in there somewhere? I really like pink.'" 

Ronnie gave me a pointed look.

I laughed, pulling my stool closer to her and the bouquet. "Okay, okay. Let me have a look here."

"Yes!" Ronnie let out a dramatic sigh of relief, pushing the massive vase closer to me. There was so much color in the bouquet, I almost went cross-eyed. "Work your magic, baby, work your magic!"

I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip as I assessed the mess of flowers in front of me. Don't get me wrong, Ronnie was great at cutting flowers and arranging them into bouquets, but she specialized in bouquets that had similar color stories. Her bouquets always consisted of different flowers, but with the same colored hue. Judging by the mangled flowers of green, pink, and orange, I could see where she was having trouble.

I started pulling out the flowers that didn't work and rearranged the purple carnations and asters so they could be the focal point. I paused every couple of seconds to evaluate the results. Ronnie, who was leaning over the table with a closed fist to her mouth, watched me work.

"If we move this over here, then these can look better on the outside." I thought out loud, pulling the lavender to the sides.

"Yes, Vita!" Ronnie hummed, watching me in awe. "Harness that crazy and turn it into something beautiful!"

The now mangled bouquet looked a lot less nutty and a little more pretty. Now the different type of colors was easily fading into each other equally.

"It's just about done, but it's missing one thing." I hopped off the stool and started walking towards the fridge. Daffodils. All it needed was daffodils.

"Hey so, here's a question for ya," Ronnie swiveled in her stool to watch me rummage through the fridge. "when do I get to hear about you and Harry?"

I bumped my head against the top shelf of the fridge.

"How do you know about that?" I stood up, rubbing the sore spot on my head.

Ronnie rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, please. Nothing goes unnoticed in Harry Styles's world. There were pictures of you and that Turdnugget all over Us Weekly the second you touched down on their sweet English soil."

I pursed my lips. The only time I recalled paparazzi being around me and Harry was when we went to that French cafe that one afternoon. Apparently the UK version of paparazzi was a lot more coy about getting their pictures.

"I take it things went sour then?" Ronnie pressed.

"What gave it away? My perky demeanor?" I asked sarcastically before turning back to the fridge.

"Definitely." Ronnie let out a surprised laugh. "So it's that bad, huh?"

I sighed dramatically before standing up. I knew I couldn't get by another work-shift with Ronnie on the clock until I filled her in about my life, so I leaned against the fridge door and quickly rehashed my less-than-epic run-in with Harry during my trip. I tried to keep a straight face while I talked about him, even though the mere thought of his face made me want to cry, vomit and scream at the same time. Ronnie held a very aggressive expression while I told her the story, keeping her lips pressed firmly together and preserving the narrowed eyes for the parts where Harry super sucked. After I told her about our trip to Saint-Malo and what happened on the beach the day after, she practically lost her mind.

"Well! I could probably sit here and slander his name until the end of time but I won't because whatever harsh thing I have to say about him, you've probably already thought." Her expression softened and her crossed arms loosened. "Instead, I'll ask you this: how're you holding up?"

"Honestly?" I blew out a swoosh of air. "I'm a mess. When I can't sleep late at night, I plan all these terrible things I'd like to say to his face if I ever saw him again. Just these truly nasty and horrendous things. And you wanna know what the worst part is? If I really did see him again, I wouldn't say those horrible things. Because after all I've been through with that stupid boy, I'd still just want to tell him I miss him. After everything! Isn't that so pathetic?"

"Not at all!" Ronnie countered immediately, waving me off with a hand. "That's just what love is. It defies all logic. Never rational. Always inconvenient."

"I'll meet someone new, right?" The feeling of hope was somewhat uplifting. "Maybe I should stick to someone a little less...musically inclined?"

"Yeah, the death threats from ungratified tweens were getting a bit old anyway," Ronnie smirked. "Pick an American this time, too."

"A librarian perhaps?" I offered, grinning. "Starbucks barista? A snake milker?"

"Alright, I'm gonna have to stop you at snake milker." Ronnie held up a hand. "Now you're just spiraling out of control."

I laughed and rolled my eyes before turning back to the fridge to grab the daffodils. But when I reached past the sunflowers and into the daffodils bucket, it was empty, which was weird because we get weekly shipments of fresh daffodils on Mondays. Today was Tuesday.

"Hey Ron, did we move the daffodils?" I asked, double-checking the top shelf. "They're not in here."

"Oh, we haven't received daffodils in like, forever," Ronnie called behind me. "We talked to the vendors about it last week, but they've been out of stock."

"Really?" I turned around to give her a look. "That's weird."

Ronnie gave a blasé shrug as she picked at her nails. "Did you see the Apple Blossoms in there? We just got those in last night. They smell heavenly."

I sighed, grabbing a couple of apple blossoms and walking back to the bouquet. I guess I'll have to outsource the daffodils from other vendors sometime this week.